


will you drive me back/can you take me home

by SemperAeternumQue



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Past Sexual Harassment, Light Angst, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), The Fabulous Killjoys (Danger Days) Are Not MCR, Trans Male Character, also they're all trans, deep conversations because the car broke down, everyone is trans now, fucked up sibling dynamics are fun to write even if they suck irl, i don't make the rules, jet star shows up but for like 2 seconds, newsagogo also makes a brief appearance, no beta we die like the fab four, party poison talk about your feelings for once challenge 2k20, they are ALL lucky cherri cola has a bit of maturity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperAeternumQue/pseuds/SemperAeternumQue
Summary: When a run goes south, Party Poison gets stuck out in Zone Five with Cherri Cola. This leads to some interesting conversations, mainly involving Kobra Kid and a lack of emotional intelligence.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola & Party Poison (Danger Days), Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	will you drive me back/can you take me home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fuckers! Yesterday I ended up writing 2k words in a little over twenty-four hours, so of course I decided to dump all those words on you all. I hope you enjoy this train wreck!
> 
> Warnings: There is some very lightly implied past sexual harassment (it's only one line, but I figured I'd warn for it. You can go to the end notes if you want to know what to skip, although again it is very lightly implied.)

Party Poison did not like being here. 

Here, being, of course, a dusty road in the middle of Zone 5, where they were currently standing, in the middle of the fucking night, watching Cherri Cola fiddle with the engine of his truck. They found the Zone poet annoying at best, and they certainly didn’t trust him, so it had taken quite a bit of convincing for them to come on this run in the first place. _Just a short run with Cola, Poison. It will be easy, just a tiny trip to pick up some supplies. Cherri just needs a companion. It’s safer together, Poison._ That’s what Dr. Death Defying had said back at the radio station as he talked Poison into this fucking train wreck.

The run had turned out to be neither short nor easy, filled with disasters from beginning to end. First, they had been attacked along the way, and then the neutral who had promised the supplies had attempted to backstab them. After a lot of negotiation and some mild threatening from Poison, they had been given the supplies. After that, plus fighting off a rather bold (and stupid) killjoy who tried to take their stuff (and managed to get Party’s jacket covered in fucking slime), they had finally been able to get back on the road...only for Cola’s stupid fucking truck to break down. So now Poison was stuck in Zone Five with a broken down truck and no jacket at one in the fucking morning, what was supposed to be a simple afternoon supply run having turned into a many hour slog. Frankly, they were getting pretty tired of it.

“Hey, Pepsi, any luck with the truck?”

Cherri Cola raised his head from where he was fiddling with the hood. Even in the moonlight, Poison could tell that his hair was a mess and his cheek was streaked with motor oil, disheveled as ever. “Not a bit, I’m afraid.”

“Fuck,” Poison swore. “Just what we need.”

“There is some good news, though,” Cola continued. “I think I know what’s wrong, I just don’t have the tools to fix it on me.”

“Well that’s not very helpful then.”

The other didn’t reply, busy rooting around in the glove compartment. After a minute or so, he looked up again. “Nope, not here.”

This night just got better and better. “Fuck. So now what?” 

Cherri Cola was fiddling with a handheld radio now. “Newsie isn’t far from here right now, I’m going to radio her and ask her to bring over the tools we need. Hello?”

“Cola? You good?” NewsAGoGo’s staticky voice crackled from the radio.

“Party Poison and I are stuck out in Zone Five, the truck broke down. Can you bring the full toolkit?”

There was a moment of silence from the other side, followed by “Damnit, Cola, tonight was my night off.” Poison heard a faint sigh. “Radio me your location and I’ll be there in twenty.”

They tuned Cola out as he gave Newsie the details, staring out at the desert night. Ghoul and Jet were bound to be worried if Poison didn’t get home soon. Whether Kobra would be worried was a toss-up; if he was, he certainly wouldn’t bother to tell Poison. Either way, they were _supposed_ to be home three hours ago. Ghoul and Jet were probably already worried, come to think of it. Well, they would just have to suck it up and deal with it, since Poison had to suck it up and deal with being stuck with Cherri Cola.

Speaking of Cherri Cola, he had come over to tap them on the shoulder. “Hey, Poison, Newsie’s on her way. It’ll probably be a half hour or so, though, do you want to get back in the truck?”

Why was he so insufferably _nice_? “I’m fine.”

“You sure? It is pretty chilly out here, and your jacket is covered in slime, I don’t want to be bringing you back to your crew like ‘hey, Poison nearly froze to death’.” They swore Cola was grinning, although it was hard to tell in the dark.

“Fine, you’re going to be insufferable if I don’t.” 

“I’m fairly sure you already thought I was insufferable,” Cherri Cola said with a laugh, hopping back into the driver’s seat as Poison reluctantly followed him.

“Yeah, I do.”

The Zone poet glanced over at them. “I’ve always been a little curious about that- why _do_ you hate me so much?” 

“Just _curious_?”

“Well, a bit hurt, yeah, but I’m hated by a surprising number of people. You get used to it.”

“I don’t see why anyone would ever hate you,” Poison snorted. “Perfect poet Cherri Cola, nicest person in the Zones.” They might have been revealing a little bit too much, but fuck it all. They were tired and done with everyone’s shit.

“But you still hate me, so I can’t be perfect.” His voice held a hint of a smile, but he dropped that as he went on. “I’m not infallible, Poison. I’m human, and I’ve done a lot of things I’m not so proud of.”

Poison actually bothered to turn and look at him this time, taking in his face in the moonlight. “You? Not proud of yourself?”

“Not everyone has your confidence.” Cola’s mouth twisted into a wry smile as he turned to face Poison. “And I have a feeling your confidence is more of a very good shield.”

They jerked away from that kind gaze. “Shut up, Pepsi.”

“As you wish.”

The silence of the desert invaded the car for a few moments more before “I always forget no one gets that reference.”

“What?” Poison eyed him suspiciously.

“It’s from an old movie D and I like; I’ve gotten in the habit of saying that instead of just ‘yes’ to a request.”

“Oh.”

“So really, I’m curious. Why do you hate me?”

“Don’t hate you, just don’t trust you,” Poison muttered. Somewhere in the distance, a coyote howled.

“Because of my past?” Cola’s eyes seemed infinitely old in that moment, shadowed by things no killjoy should have had to live through. “I won’t blame you if the answer is yes, you know. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I don’t know shit about your past. I don’t trust you because of how much you hang around my brother.”

Cherri Cola looked more startled than anything. “Kobra? He’s a good kid.”

“So you should stay away from him, then,” Poison snapped. The peace of the desert at night was nowhere near a suitable backdrop for their anger, burning and burning in contrast to the gentle desert sky. Stupid fucking Cherri Cola and his stupid fucking gentle eyes and the stupid fucking way Kobra trusted him, practically more than Kobra trusted Poison, it seemed.

To their surprise (and irritation), Cola didn’t even seem angry. “I don’t mean to hurt your brother in the slightest. He’s just a kid who could use a friend. Reminds me a bit of myself at that age, actually. Although you do even more.”

If you had asked Party Poison at age twelve where they thought they would end up, ‘sitting in a broken-down truck in the desert listening to Cherri Cola say that they reminded him of himself’ would not have been on the list. “You really don’t want to hurt him?”

“No, of course not! Kobra is a very kind person, and I don’t want to hurt anyone if I can avoid it.” 

They scanned his face and decided he seemed sincere. Cherri Cola was many things, but a good liar he was not. “Kobes got pushed around a lot back in the city. Harassed by older kids, older people. There’s always some creepy guy who hangs around the young, handsome trans dude.”

Cola’s face was nothing short of horrified. “Destroya, no, Poison. I’ve been there, I’ve been that young trans dude. If Kobra is uncomfortable with me around, I’ll leave him alone. Is- _is_ it okay? Has Kobra asked you to talk to me about this?”

Poison was forced to admit he hadn’t. “No, I just worry about him.” Cola’s words caught up to them. “Wait, you’re a trans guy?”

Cola cracked a small smile. “What part of my personality made you think I was cis?”

“Now that I think about it, none of it.”

“Oh, good, I would hate for that to happen again.” 

They glared at him, but they had to admit it was a little bit funny. “You’re pretty fucking bad at acting cis, but you had me fooled.”

“Ah, I’m so clever and trickster-y.”

“I don’t think that’s a word.”

Cola shrugged. “I don’t have to use real words as long as people know what I mean. But back to our original topic, is there any other reason you don’t like me hanging out with your brother?” 

_Yes_. “No. Just worry about how much time he spends with you.” 

“I promise I’m not _that_ bad of an influence.” Cola’s teasing grin dropped away again as he glanced over. “I think you worry he doesn’t want to spend time with you, but that’s not true. He does, and he cares. He’s just bad at saying it, and so are you.”

“Fuck. Off,” Poison growled. Why did he _always_ have to hit touchy subjects like that?

Cola shrugged again. “Just saying what I’ve noticed.” 

They would have gotten further pissed at him, but a cold gust of wind swept through the car, cooling their anger and making them shiver. They desperately wished their jacket didn’t have to be sitting in the back, covered in some sort of chemical-smelling slime from their run-in with that rude killjoy who turned out to be somewhat of a scientist. He had been not only a ‘scientist’ (really, a bomb maker with some chemistry knowledge) but a dick as well. Poison really wasn’t happy that Cola has stopped them from punching his face in, and especially so now that they didn’t have their jacket.

Speaking of Cola, a hand passed in front of their vision, holding a familiar green jacket, and they figured they better actually listen to what he was saying.

“-not cold anyways, and your brother would kill me if I brought back popsicle Poison instead of Party Poison.”

“I hate you.”

“I know. Take the jacket.”

Poison groaned and took it, finding it warm and quite a bit too large for them. “How fucking tall _are_ you?”

“Hmm. Five foot nine, or about that, I’d guess? I think that was what it was, anyways.” 

“Have I mentioned that I hate you?”

“Twice already.”

Poison glared at him again, still shivering, but just then, Newsie’s motorcycle pulled up with a roar of engines, nearly blinding them both with the headlights. NewsAGoGo themself leaned over to yell up at the truck.

“Hey, Cola, fucker, brought your toolkit!”

“Thanks, Newsie,” Cola called back. He turned to Poison. “Seems like you won’t be stuck with me much longer, which I figure you’ll appreciate. I am insufferable, after all.”

Poison huffed a sigh. “You’re a bastard, Pepsi, you know that, right?”

“Love you too, Party Poison.” 

* * *

By the time Party Poison arrived home that night, it was probably around two am. Cherri Cola had driven them back to the diner, insisting that it was only fair after putting them through that terrible run. Poison could have pointed out that it was actually Dr. D who sent them with him, but it was easier to just let Cola have his way. Besides the fact that they didn’t know how they would have gotten back to the diner without his help, given that Jet had dropped them off at Dr. D’s radio station that afternoon. 

The diner was silent as they walked in, but to their surprise, Kobra Kid was awake and sitting at one of the tables. 

“Hey, Pois.”

“Hey, fuckface. What are you doing up?” They kept their voice low as so not to wake up Fun Ghoul, who was snoozing in a different booth. Xe was curled up tightly- remarkably like a cat, actually.

“Waiting for you, dumbass.” Kobra didn’t look up at them, absorbed in whatever he was working on.

Poison’s throat felt strangely tight. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I would have been fine if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, well I wanted to know you were safe. Jet did too, but I made him sleep.”

They blinked a few times, trying to ignore the burning in their throat. It must have been the dust that was making their eyes water. “Well, I’m safe and fine. Didn’t appreciate being stuck with Cola, but he’s not _that_ insufferable.”

Kobra snorted. “Why the change of heart?” 

“Talked to him a bit,” Poison shrugged. “Still insufferably nice and a bit of a pushover, but there are worse things to be than nice.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my sibling?” Kobra actually looked up this time, not waiting for a response before he muttered “Thanks, Pois.”

“Of course, fuckface.” Poison headed towards the back of the diner, where they knew Jet would be firmly passed out on their bed, but they paused to pull Kobra into a hug first. “I love you, you bastard. Even if I don’t say it.”

“What are you, sentimental?” Kobra didn’t pull away, despite his harsh words, and Poison could hear what he didn’t (and wouldn’t) say as he threw his arms around them in return. “Also, why are you wearing Cola’s jacket?”

“Fuck, I’ll need to give that back to him tomorrow. Was cold out there, and mine is covered in slime- and in the back of Cola’s truck. Fuck.”

“You’re an airhead.”

“Fuck you.”

"Fuck you too."

Despite that, Poison didn’t pull away and neither did Kobra, until eventually they did have to let go because Poison was starting to yawn.

But when they got up, Kobra followed them to the back of the diner, pausing in front of the door to his little room. “Night, Poison.”

They shot him a tiny, tired smile. “Night, Kobra.”

Their room was dark and quiet, and for once the presence across the hall felt like warmth and security as opposed to a reminder of one more way they had failed. Poison climbed into the bed, snuggling up against Jet Star, who stirred briefly before falling back asleep. They didn’t bother to take off Cola’s jacket; it was cold in here, alright? But Jet was warm, even if the desert night was _freezing_ , so it was only a few minutes before Poison’s exhausted eyes slid shut.

**Author's Note:**

> For the warning: Skip to from “No, of course not! Kobra is a very kind person, and I don’t want to hurt anyone if I can avoid it.” to Poison was forced to admit he hadn’t. “No, I just worry about him.” Cola’s words caught up to them. “Wait, you’re a trans guy?”
> 
> And yes, I am aware Poison reads like a repressed romance novel protagonist who's pissed that they have a crush on Cherri, I swear that was NOT my intention. I hope you enjoyed this, and feel free to come yell at me over on tumblr @always-and-forever-a-killjoy!


End file.
